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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27350341">Now We're in Exile</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/smolgreeneyedavenger/pseuds/smolgreeneyedavenger'>smolgreeneyedavenger</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Captain America (Movies), Gifted (Movie 2017), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst with a Happy Ending, Avengers - Freeform, Blood and Violence, F/M, Florida, Frank Adler - Freeform, Gifted children, It's kinda AU, Marvel x Gifted, Raising kids, Red Room, Slow Burn, Steve Rogers with a beard, Strained Relationships, and i mean a looooot of fluff, but not too much, but then fluff, get ready for some anger, though nothing horrible is seen!, warning: there are some Red Room operations going on with children</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 01:41:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>19,947</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27350341</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/smolgreeneyedavenger/pseuds/smolgreeneyedavenger</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Four years. </p><p>Four years since Natasha Romanoff was in the US. Four years since Steve Rogers packed up his bags and disappeared. Four years since the Avengers were actually a team.</p><p>After all this time, Steve and Natasha would be working together again. After all this time, they would be loving again.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clint Barton &amp; Natasha Romanov, Frank Adler &amp; Mary Adler, Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>110</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>okay, okay, okay!! I'm back after WAY TOO LONG! I completely lost passion and motivation to write fanfic and it's been sad. But I'm here again with this baby. I've been working on this for a long time but now I'm ready to publish. (hopefully I'll update often-- it's my plan!) </p><p>Notes: I DO NOT OWN ANY CHARACTER, NAME, LOCATION, OR ANYTHING OF MARVEL. This is a fanfic and it's just for good, plain fun! I ALSO DO NOT OWN ANY CHARACTER, PLOT, OR ANYTHING ELSE OF THE 2017 FILM, GIFTED. It's just been such an inspiration to me and I'm blending it with Marvel.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Clint had promised his kids they would go to Disney World that summer. He had the fondest of memories going to Florida with it’s warm sun and many beaches. The people were friendly too. Since Nathaniel was a good age for travel, they’d planned the best vacation for weeks.</p><p>Just to have each plan destroyed. His kids were almost as upset as he was.</p><p>Getting shipped out to the Ukraine was absolutely the opposite of what he’d planned for his summer. Stuck in a S.H.I.E.L.D. base, in a freaking meeting room, fiddling with his bow, and eyeing each new and young agent that walked past him. At least he was in Ukraine during the summer time. It was warm, just not as friendly as Florida.</p><p>The Florida sun and beaches sounded pretty great right about now.</p><p>He didn’t <em>necessarily</em> even have to be there. He could’ve declined the mission. He could’ve even ignored the call that had changed his plans. But instead, he had picked up the call from Phil Coulson, listened for the details and, of course, the risks of the mission, and took the job. It wasn’t often that S.H.I.E.L.D. called him nowadays and whenever they did, it was always important. And it did sound serious. Clint took the mission.</p><p>He was sure Coulson always knew he’d take it. Too late to regret now.</p><p>He slouched in his chair, kicking his feet up on the table as he watched the room. Plenty of agents packed the space, talking loudly and somehow enjoying each other’s company. Guns and suits passed Clint up and down the room, each face of the agent calm but official. Small desks after desks filled the expanse and each agent had a seat, though most had abandoned them to talk with their buddies before the meeting began.</p><p>As always, Clint hated these moments. He’d rather have the mission given to him with a few comments and maybe a map and off he would go. But this mission would take a full fledge meeting with agents asking questions, orders given, and then the agents would likely leave in the evening. Clint didn’t like having his time wasted. Especially since he'd given up quite a bit to be there.</p><p>Clint leaned back so his chair was pushed against the table behind him. He played with his bow, sliding his calloused fingers along the string, picking some dirt off. A twin of agents looked him over, one looking confused, the other looking amused. Ah, yes, the looks he had been getting since arriving at the base. He was a retired agent, a retired Avenger. Either a famed hero to some or practically an old man to others. He didn’t care what they thought of him. He was only there to get a job done. He ignored their looks and instead studied the room again. Security cameras hung on each corner, speakers extended from the ceiling. The place was serious. S.H.I.E.L.D. had built itself back up since being destroyed with HYDRA years ago. Clint hadn’t expected it to make such a comeback, though. Especially in just a small place like that.</p><p>“Alright, men, look alive,” one man called, making his way down the aisle of desks.He was dressed in a dark suit, which was unbuttoned, revealing the holster against his ribs. His beard was dark and cut short, obviously paid enough attention to. Clint didn’t recognize him, but he wasn’t surprised. There were hardly any more agents from his time. They had been either HYDRA or were now retired, like himself.</p><p>The room hushed as the man stood in the front, sliding his hand along one of the hologram screens, awakening the computer. Agents found seats and files were passed along as the meeting begin. A paper binder was slid across Clint’s table. “Agent Barton,” the agent acknowledged, before moving to the next table. Clint nodded back and pulled his legs off the table, dropping his bow on it instead. He pulled the file closer to himself and the agent slowly walked away. Clint sighed as he opened the file, frowning down at the content. Alexander Smirnov’s picture stared back at him. <em>Ugh</em>.</p><p>“Plenty of you already have a hand in this mission,” the agent started, looking back at the hologram screens. “It’s been a grueling last eight months getting to this point. We’re pulling in reinforcements now.” He turned back to the crowd. “And we’re lucky to be getting some of the best. Including, Agent Barton who has joined us today.”</p><p>Clint lifted his head. Joined? More like called in. Ordered in. <em>You don’t have to take the mission.</em> His wife had said it to him that morning. But he knew by Coulson’s tone. He was needed. He was the best marksmen, one of the best agents. They couldn’t get on without him. Especially since he now knew Smirnov was involved. “You got me.”</p><p>“Agent Samuel Hendricks,” he said, moving across the room to extend his hand to Clint’s. Clint shook it as Hendricks nodded. “Director Coulson thought you’d be the best candidate for this new job.”</p><p>“Well…” Clint folded his fingers together. “Lets just get this over with, then.”</p><p>Hendricks face somewhat hardened. He lifted his head, staring over Clint as if he was a child. “I’d like to remind you, Agent Barton, we can never push to finish these missions to our own stopwatch.”</p><p>“Oh, you can’t?” Clint prodded, his eyebrows raised, bringing creases to his forehead.</p><p>“We hired you back for a specific job, Agent. Since this is a job we can’t do without the best, we’ll be sure to give you the worthy challenges and make the time worth your while. We hope not to disappoint,” he sneered. Well, in his defense, Clint had been the one to start it. At least, he was acting the leader and taking the challenge head on. He was the higher rank, after all, and he had nothing to prove to Clint Barton.</p><p>Clint barely smiled. “I hope so too.”</p><p>The room became silent as the two men stared at each other. Finally someone coughed and papers were shuffled and Hendricks broke the stare first. He looked around the room before moving back towards his desk. “Alexander Smirnov. Russian scientists, operative terrorist. Speciality?” Hendricks stood behind his desk and looked back to Clint. “Enhancement. Specifically of human beings. He’s been working on the border of the Ukraine and Russia in the last thirty years.” He passed his finger over the computer, revealing other pictures and articles from thirty years past on the hologram screens.“He worked alongside Ivan Petrovitch in the Red Room, creating the serum and assisting in the training of their women assassins.” He stopped for a moment but Clint focused on the papers in his file. He lifted one article after the other, finding most of the information Hendricks talked of. A weird feeling swirled in his stomach. “You know him, Agent Barton.”</p><p>Clint lifted his head and shrugged. “Well, never went toe to toe with him.” Hendricks didn’t say anything but he still stared. Clint cleared his throat and leaned his elbows on the table, curling his fingers together. “I’ve seen first hand what his science projects are capable of.” He glanced around the room. “It’s no secret Natasha Romanoff was the Red Room’s greatest weapon.” He frowned and glanced down at his file. “But Smirnov went missing after the Red Room was dismantled. Surely he’s… well, far too old to be doing anymore… damage.”</p><p>“That was only ever a hope, Agent Barton,” Hendricks said, turning back the large screens behind him. “S.H.I.E.L.D. has infiltrated a dozen organizations in the last five years. We’ve found files, loose-lipped sources, bank accounts all pointing back to Smirnov. He’s been working in the shadows for years.” Hendricks stared back to his team. “And he’s just been breaking the surface for his capabilities.”</p><p>“He has an army?” one agent asked.</p><p>Hendricks shook his head. “Army? No, no. But he has a team. Over the years, he’s gained enough people working for him and there’s no doubt someone’s paying him for his research. He could and will get enough buyers looking for the next Black Widows once his work is complete. And he would never stop by then.”</p><p>“Is he still taking the same approach in his research?” Clint asked, tapping his thumb against the papered binder. “Kids?”</p><p>Hendricks nodded. “It’s said he’s always believed only a child could accept his serum. The serum mixes with the DNA and matures as does the child. By then, they’re deadly.”</p><p>“That’s why all Red Room agents start out as young girls,” Clint added. “Pumped up and trained from childhood. I’m afraid Smirnov’s philosophy hasn't been proven wrong yet: all of his projects are deadly by the end.”</p><p>“Except by something like the Project Rebirth,” a woman agent said from the back. Steve Rogers had been injected with the super soldier serum in the 1940’s. He’d been a grown man and his body had changed dramatically, with no deathly effects. Nothing had been seen like it before and nothing had been seen like it since. He was the exception. Thankfully it was Steve Rogers and not some crazed Russian who got the serum.</p><p>“As far as we know, Smirnov is lightyears away from Vita-rays,” Hendricks replied.</p><p>“Here’s hoping,” an agent muttered. It became still and stiff in the room. Clint cursed under his breath. It was always the worst part of a mission when you were following a ghost. No one was sure what Smirnov was capable of after thirty years of time. He could be so many step ahead of S.H.I.E.L.D. and they couldn’t be sure until they were face to face with him.</p><p>“So,” Hendricks said, a little force behind his voice. “He’s looking for kids, maybe kids from his own soldiers and allies. But he’s also creating that serum. Our mission is get there before he can make his next move.”</p><p>“So what? We guard orphanages and daycares?” The sarcasm and chuckle came from an agent just behind Clint. He frowned. They had no idea who they were dealing with. Obviously the information that it was children who could be abused and made into soldiers, hadn’t sunk in yet. But the agents continued on: “Why don’t we just send out the call to the teachers and guardians to just keep an eye on the kids?”</p><p>“These aren’t just random kids,” a deep female voice said from the back. Clint’s eyes lifted. He let out a breath. <em>That voice…</em> That deep, sure and steady, cunning and challenging voice. It came from the throat and the perfect curl of the tongue. It could be used to joke, argue and seduce with. It won every time. And the owner knew it.</p><p>Even now, she managed to get the attention of every agent in the room. The sound of chairs turning and desks creaking as every agent turned to the back of the room filled the silence.</p><p>Clint looked up to Hendricks, finding the agent already had his eye on him. His look was enough to confirm Clint’s suspicions. There as no way he would ever not recognize that voice. Clint finally sat up straighter and turned in his seat to follow the gaze of the other agents. She made her way down the aisle, her black cat suit slick and clean around her perfect curves. She wore a holster on either thigh, her batons were strapped to her back, the belt around her waist wore the same weapons and supply buckles he’d remembered; first aid kit, grappling hook, gas disk, etc. Her red hair seemed to glow in the dim room, curly and long. It’d been quite a while since he’d seen her with long hair. She still held that bright expression; twinkling eyes, tight smirk. Natasha Romanoff was still gorgeous after all this long time.</p><p>Her heeled boots echoed down room as she made her way through the stunned or amazed agents, her arms swinging alongside her. “These are handpicked children. Only some will be chosen for the “higher race,” she said, a bit of spite slipping from her voice. She made it around Hendrick’s desk, handing him a small flash drive. “The Red Room has always picked the natural fighters. But Smirnov believed they needed more compliant creatures who would easily accept the serum. Making them into fighters… that could be done later. They had to compromise. They still managed to make weapons.”</p><p>Her eyes fell on Clint just then. She stopped suddenly. Clint laid back in his chair, lifting his hand in a weak wave, his fingers individually dropping back to his fist. Her lips parted as she stared at him, a look of confusion and then pleasure passing over her features. He stared back, raising an eyebrow. She took a breath and looked back to the agents. “Smirnov no longer works for the Red Room, he works on his own terms. So we have to suppose he has the same mindset. His kids won’t be the fighters. They’ll not only be easier to work on, these kids will also be easier to convince. Smirnov will have their trust, their loyalty.”</p><p>An agent cleared his throat. “But he’s not a leader of any organization. He doesn’t have ties with any big people since the Red Room. What will be the point of making these soldiers.”</p><p>Hendricks pointed to the agent with his pencil. “Smirnov will need buyers. That’s why we’re having this session.” He typed along his computer for a second and a new face came on the screen. “Gleb Navolsky. Gang leader and smuggler, known from this side of the Ukraine to the border between China and Russia. We intercepted on a call with Navolsky and one of Smirnov’s men and it seems Smirnov is willing to do a drop-off this weekend. That being said…” Hendricks looking around the room. “Smirnov has always been careful with who he does business with. There must be a trade going on.”</p><p>“You think Navolsky would smuggle kids for Smirnov?” a front row agent asked.</p><p>“Smuggling humans was never his game,” Clint answered. “Navolsky is known for smuggling weapons. Smirnov might need that if his following is enlarging,” Clint said, pressing his hands together. “It wouldn’t cost Smirnov much to give up one guinea pig.”</p><p>“Only this isn’t likely a guinea pig…” Hendricks started.</p><p>The room stilled like the air was rushed out of it. Of course… S.H.I.E.L.D. Always hiding something until the end. Always dumping their agents with dumbfounding news and expecting them to still work with it. Smirnov project was already a finished one. A child had already been used. “Wait a minute…” Clint sat up, scrutinizing Natasha from across the ways. She stared back defiantly. “He’s already started. He already has kids. He’s already…”</p><p>“We don’t have a count on how many kids,” Natasha said. She began to nod. “But yes, Agent Barton. It’s already begun.”</p><p>“What? Has S.H.I.E.L.D. gotten slow in their old age? Why the hell was this operation not stomped out the minute kids could’ve been involved?!”</p><p>“Oh, yeah, and lose Smirnov in the middle of it. We’ve handled this case with a low profile, collecting information and waiting for the best opportunities—”</p><p>“There are children involved!” Clint growled, slamming his hand on the table. Hendricks tried to yell back but Natasha planted an arm in front of his middle. Hendricks looked confused but Natasha stepped up. “We had to sacrifice moments, Agent Barton. If Smirnov had gotten away when were just beginning to investigate, who says he wouldn’t regroup in an entirely new place and find more kids. We couldn’t lose the few leads we had.”</p><p>Clint stared at her, anger simmering just beneath his skin. He hated how calm and beautiful she seemed, her piercing eyes boring into his from across the room. It should’ve made him more angry. But he remembered her giving him that look long ago. It was always an indication she had a plan and she wasn’t going to give to anything. Had it been her that wanted him in on the mission? Clint took in a deep breath and relaxed back in his chair.</p><p>Natasha pulled her hand away from Hendricks and he seemed to relax as well. He straightened his jacket and looked back to his agents. “No matter our feelings, this drop-off is still happening tonight. A child, a file, a serum, we still do not know. The site is a small town named Suralsk. The timing: eleven pm. The exchange will be happening on the beach outside of the town. We have one chance at stopping this exchange. Let’s not miss it. Cameron, Williams and Rhett will be team leaders. I want Williams in the city, guarding the entrances—we don’t want to affect the residents there. Cameron will be come in from the west to engage Smirnov at the lake. I want Rhett’s team already at the cape. Any questions?”</p><p>“Uh, yeah,” Clint said, putting his hand up in the air. Natasha rolled her eyes but Hendricks stood taller. He nodded, giving Clint approval. “You all seem to know what you’re doing. The mission seems tight, all accounted for… Why am I here again?”</p><p>Hendricks shared a look with Natasha. She just stared back. Clint frowned. She hadn’t been the one to call him in. Hendricks then leaned against the table in front of him. “The Director asked for you, specifically. He believed you had the eyes and the experience along with Agent Romanoff’s for the mission. I’m not the one to disclose the details of your mission. You’ll talk to the Director.” Hendricks looked around the room. “Is that all?” Clint was ready to argue again but no one paid him attention and honestly, he was too tired of Hendricks answer so he decided he would wait.</p><p>Hendricks nodded. “You’ll be briefed again on the jet. That will be all.”</p><p>The room suddenly became busy as agents pushed their chairs back, packed their papers and files, and talked quietly as they made their way around the room. Clint pulled on his jacket, watching as Hendricks muttered something to Natasha with a warning glare which she just replied to with a smirk. He made his way down the room, glancing at Clint once. Clint tugged his bow closer to him, watching the agents pile out of the room.</p><p>The door shut with a bang behind them.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Clint was alone in the room. <em>Oh, wait!</em> No, he wasn’t. He turned back to Hendrick’s desk, watching Natasha pile the files together, slapping them, straightening them. Acting busy, her eyes down on the work. He made his way down the aisle, clearing his throat. “Well, well, well, well, well, well, well, well,” he chimed as he glanced around the room.</p><p>Natasha finished her work, walking around the table with two of the binders. Clint stood in her way, pointing his bow in front of her as she tried to get around him. She sighed and took a step back. She could fight him off if she wanted, they both knew it. But Clint was hoping she was willing to explain a few things.</p><p>Clint would take his time. He chuckled slightly, circling around her. “Imagine you popping up after all these years. My, my, my, my, my,” he started again, looking her up and down.</p><p>“What, what, what, what, what?” she finally asked, looking back at him. He cocked his head and walked back around to stand in front of her. She didn’t keep eye contact for more than two seconds.</p><p>“This is where you’ve been hiding all this long time, hmm? What’s it been… six years?”</p><p>“Four, actually,” she said, nodding.</p><p>“Oh, we’ve been counting, have we? That’s gotta make me feel better…” he scoffed, shaking his head. She scowled at him but he pointed a finger in her face. “Four years, Romanoff. Not a word, not a phone call, not one sign from you.”</p><p>“I was off the grid, Clint—”</p><p>“Never stopped you in the past from at least emailing me once,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “Even in your most darkest times, Nat, you’ve always kept me in the loop.”</p><p>“Well, not this time,” she said, firmly.</p><p>“Oh, no kidding! It would’ve been nice to get a heads up.” He glared at her but she finally matched his glare with her own, not backing down. “Admit it… this wasn’t just a mission you had to keep under wraps. You were running from <em>everything</em>, Romanoff… even me.”</p><p>He watched the muscle twitch in her face. It didn’t happen often; her face betraying her emotions. Natasha sighed, turning her attention to her boots. Clint just watched her, gripping his bow so tightly he was sure his knuckles were white. It got quiet in the room as she seemed to process her next move, her next few words. And Clint hoped they would be worth the wait. She finally looked back up. “I did what I had to do…”</p><p>They weren’t the words Clint was waiting for. Anger boiled inside of him and he was tempted to throw his bow across the room, yell in her face, get her to admit something, anything, express a little more emotion than a face muscle. Instead, he just turned away from her, allowing himself to breathe and calm down before he answered. She wasn’t Natasha Romanoff right now. He could tell with how she was calculating. She was Black Widow. She had — to maintain. She wasn’t going to express anything to him.</p><p>She was rigid and completely silent as he thought, closing his eyes for just a moment. When he turned back to her, she was looking down again, her shoulders loose. She looked sad, almost defeated. He still wasn’t going to be able to convince her of anything. “Coulson called me in… Do you know why?”</p><p>“I can get you the answers,” she said, nodding. She took a step towards him. “Coulson is in charge of this sector. He called you in specifically… I can take you to him…” Her offer was a bit hesitant as if she wasn’t so sure he’d even want to go anywhere with her. Her face faltered.</p><p>He stared at her for a moment before rubbing the back of his neck. He extended a hand to the doors ahead of him. “Lead the way, ma’am.”</p><p>She eyed him for a second before walking past him, leading out of the room. Clint clutched his bow as he followed her, memories of following her over the years flooding his mind. He was never going to get away from her.</p><p>_________________________</p><p>“It’s good to see you two side by side again,” Phil Coulson said, smiling approvingly at Clint and Natasha, the inseparable agents from time past. They had fought terrorists, aliens and gods-- sometimes all in the same year. They had been Avengers, avenging night and day. They had been quite the pair. In the past. That’s all they were now. Past partners. Clint looked at Natasha out of the corner of his eye and he saw her take a step back, her eyes darting to the ground. Coulson’s feeling wasn’t very mutual on both their parts.</p><p>Clint ignored it and gave his hand to Coulson, which the other man quickly shook. “You called me all the way from the Middle East… after a good six months of peace. I thought it might be important.” Coulson nodded. “You just can’t get on without me.”</p><p>“You know I wouldn’t call unless it was necessary,” he said, glancing at Natasha. “And this mission has needed some of our best agents. Even the ones who have stepped back. I appreciate you having a hand in this mission, Clint.”</p><p>“Which is what I wanna talk about,” Clint started but Coulson moved to Natasha, taking the folders from her hands. She folded her hands behind her back, straight as a board, waiting for more orders. But Coulson was already turning away, breaking the seal of one of the folders, muttering “yeses” and telling the secretary to prepare the evening schedules. Clint looked at Natasha, never finding eye contact, and followed Coulson down the long room. “You called me in for the mission, but no one seems to know why. Even your leading officers.”</p><p>“Ah… yes,” Coulson muttered as he led them through his office. The room was huge with high ceilings, large windows that brought in evening light, hologram screens showing encrypted files, highest clearance. Clint looked back at Natasha, who quietly followed them. He turned back to Coulson who dropped the files on his desk. “Agent Romanoff, you’re scheduled for the mission with Hendricks tonight?”</p><p>“Yes, sir,” Natasha said, letting her arms loose.</p><p>“You should be preparing the soldiers,” Coulson said, looking around his desk. “I want a status before they leave this evening. They’re experienced but they’re young. Make sure they’re in good shape for tonight.”</p><p>Natasha stared at him for a moment, a tight frown appearing on her face. It was a split second, though, and she nodded. She looked back at Clint, almost lingering, and tapped her knuckles on Coulson’s desk before turning away.</p><p>Clint turned back to Coulson but he lifted a hand, shutting him up. A sign to wait…</p><p>Clint bit his lower lip and looked back down the room, watching Natasha make her way to the door. She glanced over her shoulder once, her eyebrow lifted, her lips parted. Clint just stared back. Her eyes fell first and she turned away, snatching the doorknob and closing the door behind her.</p><p>“It must be surprising to see her again,” Coulson muttered, knowingly. Clint turned back to the desk as Coulson smoothed his tie against his chest and sat down.</p><p>Clint glared at him. “Seriously? Four years, Phil.” Clint pulled a chair up to the desk, leaning his bow against the arm as he sat down, his eyes on Coulson the entire time. “Not a word, not a sign. I had nothing for four long years. She’s never done anything like that.”</p><p>“She had to do it this time,” Coulson said, looking back up at Clint.</p><p>“Yeah, she gave me that same crap downstairs,” Clint sighed. “What’s she really been up to?”</p><p>Coulson sighed, relaxing back in his chair. “I understand what it might seem like, Clint. There was some… damage done to the Avengers, I know.” Clint swallowed. “But Natasha’s been doing more here than running.” He reached over the desk, tapped a few screens and then looked across the room. Clint followed his gaze to see a projection of a map, red dots scattered around the Ukraine and Russian territory. “These were bases, operations, safe houses… Natasha’s been taking down the Red Room one step at a time.”</p><p>Clint looked back to the director. “The Red Room was disabled years ago.”</p><p>Coulson just eyed Clint, questionably.</p><p>Clint nodded. “Okay, so they weren’t? That was all a lie?”</p><p>“Natasha Romanoff escaped with you in Budepest. She exploited the Red Room soon after that. They were dismantled for a time, their big operations were crippled and their assets scattered. But they were never truly gone. They just needed to regroup.”</p><p>“And they have?”</p><p>“And far better than any of us had ever anticipated. With S.H.I.E.L.D. hardly in working form these last few years, they were able to develop in ways almost comparable as their days in the late ’80’s.”</p><p>“Great,” Clint groaned.</p><p>“So you understand why she had to go off the grid like she did.”</p><p>Clint looked at him, wearily. “The Red Room couldn’t have any idea she’d be coming for them.” He glanced back to the maps. “They knew if anyone would take them down again, it would be her.”</p><p>“No contact with the outside world, no sign of her even being on this planet. The Black Widow’s become a ghost.”</p><p>“How’s that working out for you? Natasha Romanoff with no real people, no real life? 100% of all her attention and being. Only Black Widow?”</p><p>Coulson’s eyebrows lifted and dropped as if admitting Clint was on to something. “That’s why I’ve called you in.” Coulson pulled his chair closer to the desk, dropping his elbows on the wood. “These last missions, Natasha’s… faltered. The closer we get to the heart of the Red Room, the more personal it gets. Locations, names, faces… they all trigger something. She’s been making hasty decisions.” The two men stared at each other for a minute before Coulson shook his head. “I’m not sure she’s safe anymore.”</p><p>“So stop,” Clint said, simply. “Get her out of here. Get someone else to do that job.”</p><p>“There is no one else. No one else with her experience, her memory, her skill. We can’t just stop, Clint. We’re so close to shutting down the entire operation; the Red Room would never be able to gain traction again… If she stops, then we’ve all lost.”</p><p>Clint leaned over to the desk. “Am I here because of Smirnov?” Coulson just nodded. Clint sighed. “What? You think she’s gonna kill him or something?”</p><p>“Towards this point, I’m afraid that’s exactly what she could do. And then we would have a murder on our hands.” Coulson shook his head, wearily. “She’s already been questioned for destroying intel behind our backs. Some of my men even suspect her killing two Red Room operatives after gaining information. She still hasn’t spoken of it to me.”</p><p>Clint frowned. “Phil, both you and I have been in that position. S.H.I.E.L.D. has killed enough threats in their time. It’s no surprise Natasha would take things into her own hands.”</p><p>“That may be. But things have changed,” Coulson said. “Killing isn’t the answer right now. We have too much to risk. We have to finish Smirnov’s work and his connections to buyers. Smirnov did enough to Natasha in her time. I can guarantee it will be hard for her to face him.” Coulson shook his head. “As long as Natasha keeps up this behavior unchecked, she's a liability to the mission.”</p><p>“But you still want her?”</p><p>“I still need her. But I need you too. I want you to keep an eye on her tonight.” He went quiet for a moment, staring at the map across the room. But Clint studied the older agent’s face. The director, his friend. There was age, worry, and stress lines in his features. He was serious in what he was asking of Clint. He only wanted to protect Natasha. He only wanted to keep Natasha and her sanity safe. “Don’t let Natasha do anything she’ll regret.”</p><p>Clint stared at him for a long moment before nodding. It was in his bones to protect and care for Natasha. <em>Phil knew it</em>. He stood up, strapping the bow to his back. “I’ll try my best.”</p><p>Coulson nodded as he stood too. “I’m trusting you with this.” If it was supposed to make Clint feel better… it didn’t work.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>oh, it's going down!!! get ready, guys!</p><p>Btw, this is a Romanogers fanfic LOL. I know there's a lot of Clint+Nat going on here but it's important. They are best friends, practically siblings. :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A small part of her was grateful Phil Coulson had brought Clint in for the mission. He held such a big part of home for her. She'd missed him. She couldn’t allow herself to think about many other people, so she’d come accustomed to believeing she missed him the most. Which in all fairness, made sense: Clint was her oldest friend, her partner for years, the only human she had trusted with her whole life for so long.</p><p>And maybe it would’ve been heaven to see him again after four years.</p><p>But the biggest part of her, really wanted to kill Phil Coulson. Because it was just that: it had been four years since she’d seen or talked to Clint. Phil had just dumped them together again with no warning to either of them. And it definitely wasn’t like old times. It had been a long time since she’d seen such resentment and distrust on Clint’s face. He had been cold and accusatory towards her. And she, being her normal Black Widow self, had been just as cold and modest back. What else could she be? She knew what he likely felt. (He was never good at hiding his feelings when it came to her.) He felt as if she had abandoned him. And maybe she had.</p><p>She’d do it again. She’d run and begin again if she needed to.</p><p>Seeing him again made it feel like much longer than four years. She could still remember the concern Clint had had her for then. She could still hear the bite in Steve’s voice. The sadness in Wanda and Sam’s eyes. Tony’s affectionate squeeze of her shoulder. None of them had known it would be the last time they’d see her. She had told herself it was better that way. She had believed it for some time. But after seeing Clint again… maybe she had been wrong. She was always wrong.</p><p>
  <em>She only acted like she knew everything… </em>
</p><p>And it was all throwing her off her game. She decided she would kill Coulson. It wasn't right for Hawkeye and Black Widow to be back together again. It would be harder now to focus on the mission if Clint and all his familiar smells and his cocky attitude sent her back in memories of four, six, ten years ago with the Avengers.</p><p>The best thing she could do was to put up walls. She had to focus on her mission and her best bet was to just ignore Clint. She was good at shaking things off. This wouldn’t be any different.</p><p>She stood in the back of a S.H.I.E.L.D. jet, her arms folded over her chest as she watched the men and women gearing up for the mission. They would be dropping in the town in less than ten minutes. They had had these moments all year but tonight was different. There was a tense feeling coming off each agent and filtering in the air around them. They had one shot at this mission, one second to grab Smirnov, one chance of finishing the Red Room forever.</p><p>“Are the acoustics better back here?” a voice muttered behind her. She turned to find Clint there, dressed in his suit, his bow at his back, a half eaten apple in his hand. “We’ll be getting order soon. What are you doing back here?”</p><p>She looked back to the soldiers ahead of them. “I’m an asset to the mission, not part of the team.”</p><p>“Oh, you’re working like that again,” he said, crushing his teeth into his apple. She dropped her arms and turned to him but before she could open her mouth, he waved the hand that held the apple in her face. “Keeping a distance from everybody, only allowing work to keep your attention. You’re a ghost even among your teammates.”</p><p>She ignored his mocking. “You’re in the mission.”</p><p>“Coulson asked nicely,” he said, shrugging a shoulder.</p><p>“Why? Did he send you to spy on me?” she asked, accusingly.</p><p>Clint pulled the apple away from his mouth and stared at her. She kept his stare for a second before she blinked. She cursed inwardly. He had been reading her. And she had defended herself before he made one allegation. <em>Sloppy, sloppy.</em> She turned back, fiddling with her Widow Bite cuffs. The blue light illuminating off of them seem to glare at her.</p><p>Clint began to chuckle. “Now, why would Phil Coulson ever hire me to spy on you? What did you do, steal some candy?”</p><p>Natasha hid a smirk but didn’t offer a reply.</p><p>The bustle of the room prompted her to look back to the agents gathering around Hendricks. She pulled some hair behind her ear and focused on the missions, determined to ignore Clint who was still staring at her. She heard him sigh just as Hendricks stood behind a table in the center of the jet. “As we discussed, we have one shot at this. Smirnov and Navolasky will be meeting here,” he pointed to a map on the table, “on the beach. Rhett will be taking the waterfront. Guard each end of it but keep out of sight.” The team leader nodded. “I’m sending Cameron’s team in for the trade. Wait for instructions once in position. Williams and Miller will come from the north. Their S.T.R.I.K.E. teams will keep the passages closed— I don’t want any escape goats.” Hendricks paused, looking down the room towards Clint and Natasha. “Romanoff and Barton…You two working together tonight?”</p><p>“Sounds good,” Clint said, confidently.</p><p>“Fine,” Natasha muttered, not willing herself to care about it.</p><p>“It’s obviously what Coulson wanted,” Hendricks said, rapping his knuckles against the table. “You two are the backup.” He looked away but Natasha’s face fell and she sputtered. <em>The backup</em>… She looked at Clint but he hardly seemed perturbed.</p><p>“The backup? Hendricks, you need us on the front,” she said, making a step forward. Hendricks turned back to her and frowned deeply. “You know you at least need me there. I’ve had a hand in this case since the beginning. I should be there when Smirnov makes the scene.”</p><p>All of the agents passed looks between Natasha and Hendricks. Hendricks looked around the room at his agents before focusing his attention on Natasha. He didn’t look pleased at all by her interjection. “We have one shot at this. I’m not going to risk anything. We need to make the entrance first and then you follow in.”</p><p>Natasha cocked an eyebrow. They were fools to think she didn’t see through the lie. They didn’t want her in the front because of Smirnov. Coulson was wasting his time worrying about her and pushing her back from finishing the mission. He had sent Clint to be her partner. He had ordered Hendricks to keep her as the backup. She had made some dicey decisions in the last few missions, yes, but she was in prime shape for this case. She could handle it.</p><p>“Come on, Hendricks. We’ve been on this case since the beginning, together. You know I’m the biggest weapon here. I deserve to have the chance with Smirnov.”</p><p>“Nat—” Clint tried to grab her elbow but she dodged his grip.</p><p>“Smirnov needs to see this face. He needs to know he’s being finished.”</p><p>Hendricks sighed but shook his head. “I need you two out there just as importantly as the guys at the front. Maybe, even more so. If it’s a bust, I’m gonna need you to make the big comeback. Take the jeep, keep at the end of the city. Make your way to the front when ordered.” The jet became silent as he gave the instructions.</p><p>Natasha just stared at him. She felt the anger building. They wouldn’t make the mission without her, she knew it. They would lose. But Hendricks didn’t look like he was backing down. Why would he risk the mission? Why was she considered the risk? Clint’s fingers came to wrap around her forearm. “Understood,” he said for them.</p><p>Hendricks’s eyes switched to Clint and then back to Natasha, warningly. She didn’t move but she didn’t argue. Hendricks took it and nodded to the other agents. “Let’s move.” The crowd dispersed, passing her with their weapons and heavy gear. A few of them watched her as they passed but she ignored them all.</p><p>Clint released her arm and Natasha growled underneath her breath, turning to him. His apple hung out of his mouth but he was picking at the tip of one of his arrows. “Finish your apple and let’s get out of here.” She walked past him, glancing back at Hendricks for a second. She wasn’t surprised to see him staring back but it did unnerve her.</p><p>He would be losing in the end.</p><p>Once she was out of the room, she turned quick on her heels, shoving a finger up in Clint’s face. “You knew about this, didn’t you?! Coulson kicked me out of the mission.”</p><p>“Hey, hey, no he didn’t. You’re still in the mission, Nat. You’ll still be part of bringing Smirnov in. You just won’t be in the front lines. And no, I didn’t know. I’m here for a totally different purpose.”</p><p>“Well, I should be in the front lines. This has been <em>my</em> case and Smirnov—” She stopped for a second before dropping her arm. “Smirnov is mine.” She started to turn away but stopped, looking over her shoulder at him. “What is your purpose in the mission, anyway?”</p><p>“Strictly confidential,” he replied.</p><p>“Yeah? Well, I don’t trust you.”</p><p>He bit into his apple but shoved the bite into his cheek. “Well, I’m not asking you to.”</p><p>She glared at him but turned away, making her way through the jet towards the transportation hall. “Let’s go get the jeep.” Clint complied and followed without another word. She heard him still eating and she hoped he would finish soon. His snack was this close to be hurled into a wall.</p><p>She walked well ahead of Clint, trying to calm herself down. She couldn’t be compromised for the mission, she couldn’t. She had to focus. Smirnov was the mission, not Clint, not her position. As long as she was involved in bringing Smirnov in, it would all be worth it. Except, she was having to convince herself of that. She had wanted to be the one to handcuff Smirnov, point a gun to his head and tell it was all over. He had created her. He had made the best of Black Widow. He deserved to have his ‘creation’ look him in the eye and end him.</p><p>Instead, some Level 3 agent would have the privilege of doing her job.</p><p>“I’ll drive,” Clint chimed, running around the jeep. Natasha, not willing to argue, just jumped into the passenger’s side, slamming the door shut behind her. The jet jolted for a moment and loud air rushed into the transportation bay. A voice over the intercom reminding people they would land in minutes, secure your spot, prepare to dispatch immediately. It was almost muffled out for Natasha.</p><p>She had no trouble hearing every <em>crunch</em> bite made into that apple. She lifted her eyes for a second before glaring at him. Clint had pushed his chair back and had his knee pressed against the stirring wheel. The core of the fruit was showing and he lost a seed. He brushed it off his pant leg. “Are you done?” she finally asked.</p><p>He stopped mid-bite and then handed her the rest of it. She opened the window of her door and chucked the core out. They watched each other the entire time, annoyance steaming off them like volcanos.</p><p>She turned back in her seat and pulled out the small laptop from the backpack. Clint sighed heavily and sat properly in his chair. She focused on the screen of the laptop, dragging her finger over the files. She read over the map towards Smirnov’s location, repeating the mission plans in her head. She had gone over them a dozen times—</p><p>“You sure this case isn’t hitting too close to home, Nat?” Clint suddenly asked. “I mean… you could sit this one out. Smirnov and you—”</p><p>Natasha glared at him. He stopped talking but he was still looking at her in that way he did; like he was still asking a question, like he was still expecting an answer. She leaned back in her chair. “Is that was this is about? You think I can’t handle this?”</p><p>Clint shrugged a shoulder. “I’m just—"</p><p>“Clint, I’ve been on this case for four years. I know it in and out. We’re this close to finishing the Red Room forever. I’m not missing it. I’m going to see Smirnov taken in.”</p><p>He stared at her for a second before cocking an eyebrow. “Okay, then.” He started up the engine and buckled himself in. “Let’s get this over with.”</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They were silent for most of the drive. The S.H.I.E.L.D. jet was landed just outside of the city, hidden in its cloaking mechanism, so they wouldn’t have to drive too far. Clint was steady in his driving; keeping his eye on the road at all times while also drumming his fingers on the stirring wheel. Suralsk was a small town and the bumpy road was an indication enough that it wasn’t exactly a tourist stop, even with a beach close by. The sun would be down in thirty minutes, giving S.H.I.E.L.D., and even Smirnov, the perfect cover.</p><p>Natasha straightened against her chair, releasing a knot in her back caused by the bumpy road. When she glanced up, she noticed Clint just turn away from sneaking a look at her. She rolled her eyes. She didn’t expect him to but he suddenly spoke: “So.. how’s the Ukraine treating you?”</p><p>She glared at him. “It’s not exactly a vacation spot. I’m here for work, Clint.”</p><p>He snuck a glance at her. “You really got a problem with me, don’t you?”</p><p>“Don’t you have one with me?”</p><p>Clint sighed and stared out to the road. “Look, I admit it… I was pissed when I first saw you. But I wasn’t mad at you, not really.” Natasha watched him, hesitant to hope of anything. “I was mad you were here the entire time and I never had a hunch. I was just a phone call away from Coulson to know where you were. I never guessed.”</p><p>“And that’s my fault,” Natasha said, kicking some lint off her pants.</p><p>“I’m not upset with you now,” he said.</p><p>She looked up at him and smirked. “Yeah. Just until I go and muck something else up, right?”</p><p>He looked down at her and chuckled. “Don’t go mucking things up, then.”</p><p>They laughed together and turned back to the window. Natasha hated to think when it was the last time she’d laughed like that. It’d have to be Clint to bring it out of her. “Wanna hear about the kids?”</p><p>Yep, it was the Barton family she had missed the most these last few years. Nathaniel would be six now, probably playing daily in mud and picking fights with his older sister. She couldn't imagine Cooper and Lila as teenagers. She could still remember their births. Natasha turned in her seat, biting the inside of her cheek. “Yeah. How are they? How’s Laura?”</p><p>He grinned at her. “They’re all doin’ great. Well—“ He cocked his head. “They were upset I canceled our vacation to come out here.” Before Natasha could feel bad about it, he waved a hand at her. “I’ll make it up to them big time. S.H.I.E.L.D. will pay for the next trip.” Natasha chuckled, knowing Clint would definitely get compensation for his time. He always managed things like that.</p><p>“There’s a new dog on the farm. Her name is Daisy. Golden Retriever. She’s become a second mother to Nathaniel. You should see Lila with a bow, Nat. She’s almost as good as me.” He winked at her. “Cooper started football practice just a month ago. And Laura finally has her own work space in the house. Goodbye, dining room.”</p><p>“Oh, yeah? And what’s your next project?”</p><p>He chuckled, sliding his hand down the stirring wheel. “I’ll probably just stick to the barn for now. It needs new paint anyway.” Natasha’s thoughts seemed to hiccup when the barn was mentioned. It was flooded with too many memories; good, bad.</p><p>She didn't have time to recover before Clint started again. “And the team? You wanna know about them?” Natasha swallowed and looked back to her passenger window. <em>The Avengers.</em> The mention of the barn was hard enough— “You would be proud of all the things Tony’s been doing, Nat. He’s working with charities nowadays, rebuilding neighbors, establishing his tech in businesses. His focus is mostly on orphanages, though. He houses tons of kids across the country.”</p><p>Something warmed in Natasha, knowing Tony was doing meaningful work. Once, Stark Industries distributed war weapons. Now it was establishing housing for orphans. It was all the power and heart of one man over a company. Tony always seemed to care for the community, now matter how big or small. She wasn’t at all surprised that’s where he spent most of his time now. It probably mattered more than flying around as Iron Man.</p><p>“Bruce works with him, of course. Rhodey’s back in the military. His capabilities and skill are in demand these days. Thor visits once and awhile but, you know Thor. He’s busy with who knows what in the galaxies. Wanda’s recently moved into a new apartment. She’s going to school, Nat. She’s getting a degree.”</p><p>It was good to hear about everyone… but it still hurt. It hurt than she hadn’t seen Nathaniel running around the farm with the new dog, it hurt that she couldn’t see Tony changing lives, it hurt that she couldn’t help set up Wanda’s apartment with her. She had helped with her room when Wanda had first joined the Avengers. She missed those moments. She missed…</p><p>She looked out the front window, a bit of relief settling in her chest. She could see street lights and the hub of the city a few miles ahead. They would begin their mission and Clint would shut up soon enough. “Stay out of the lights,” she muttered, leaning to look out the window.</p><p>“Right.” He kept his steady drive ahead before the city came into full view. Tall buildings with bright windows revealed persons and businesses still awake. Natasha could hear the ruckus of a Friday night party going on at the end of the street. Clint took a turn before they met them, driving down a forsaken road. “You know, Tony should really do something with the Avengers Compound and even the Tower. It’s still standing. Maybe make them both into museums.”</p><p>“You know what… I don’t even…”</p><p>“I don’t think it would ever even be a question if it wasn’t for Sam.” Something shifted and Natasha’s heartbeat quickened. <em>Sam was too close to home.</em> Clint’s voice was drowned out by the humming in her ears and the heavy memories floating in her mind. She barely heard Bucky’s name and her stomach did a summersault, overwhelmed with the sudden emotions.</p><p>“Clint—” She had pinned down those emotions for years. He was opening them all one by one. They couldn’t burst open now. Not now.</p><p>“This thing is, Natasha. The Avengers—”</p><p>“Oh, God, will you just stop?!” Natasha said, wringing her hands in the air. She turned around in her chair to face him. “Just stop, already! I don’t wanna hear this. I don’t!”</p><p>Clint stared at her for a second, dumbfounded. A shadow of anger passed over his face… before he swerved like a mad man, taking them down a too dark road. The car jumped and weaved and Natasha fell back against the passenger door, sure they would wreck at any moment in the tight road, hugged by old buildings. She pulled herself back up, ready to yell at the maniac but before she could, he jerked the car to a stop, kicking them both forward and back. Natasha pulled curls from her face and glared at him.</p><p>Clint kept his eyes intent on the stirring wheel, taking in deep breaths through his nostrils. A vein showed in his cheek. He was angry. But he was controlling it. Natasha turned away from him, keeping her eyes to the window. They went silent in the car, now so dark from the shadows of the alleyway. She had hoped it would be better after getting him to shut up and hide away the memories, but yelling at him seemed to have made her feel worse. Her chest ached. It didn’t take either of them long to muck things up, after all.</p><p>When Clint spoke, his voice was quiet and controlled.</p><p>“He’s no longer at the compound, Nat.”</p><p>Everything seemed to still around Natasha. She let out a breath… They were finally talking about the elephant in the room. The one subject Clint was getting closer and closer to when he talked about Sam and Bucky. She'd panicked and lashed out. Now they were sitting in the still car, memories of the past circling around them like ghosts. Natasha had tried to run from them; she had tried to push the feelings down in the coldest parts of her soul, she had tried to mute them until they disappeared. Some nights, it worked. More often, she dragged them along like a prisoner’s chains.</p><p>Work had been the only thing to save her. The more she became Black Widow and not Natasha Romanoff over the four years, the more her memories, her life, drifted away like torn pieces of paper. She never went after them. They only caused pain. It was just when she was hoping she was letting go of her chains, then Clint Barton showed up. And he was already breaking down walls, punching memories back in her heart, throwing her dares to remember. To remember another’s deep voice, soft side smile, the feel of his skin against her.</p><p>“Steve Rogers packed up his bags and left two weeks after you did,” Clint voice drifted along the still car. Natasha felt its walls closing in on her. She was never claustrophobic before. “No one’s heard from him since.” Both of them disappeared for four years. Natasha didn’t look away from the window but her eyes shifted, a stinging starting at the corners. “Sam and Bucky are all that’s left of the Avengers.”</p><p>
  <em> How fitting. Steve’s best friends. </em>
</p><p>“They blame me for that…?” she dared asked, unsure of what her voice would reveal. The dry in her throat got worse as the seconds ticked.</p><p>If Clint noticed, he didn’t react. “I don’t think anyone knows who to blame, Nat. And what would be the point? Everyone knew you and Rogers were a ticking time bomb. We didn’t… we could’ve done more before it got out of hand. We didn’t.” He sounded as if he actually believed the other Avengers could’ve done something; something to help Steve and Natasha, something to keep the Avengers together. Natasha kept her eyes on the window. Clint heaved a heavy sigh. “Maybe it was everyone’s fault.”</p><p>Yes, Natasha had run. She had abandoned the Avengers to work with S.H.I.E.L.D. She had cut all ties with any friends or family. But she had never imagined the Avengers would fall apart. She had never imagined Steve would leave. The Avengers was his life. Captain America was his life. He had really given it all up? Because of her?</p><p>“It wasn’t meant to be this way…” she said, just loud enough not to be a whisper.</p><p>“But here we are,” he said. His voice wasn’t cold. But it was firmly honest. It still felt like a knife slicing into her skin.</p><p>A static started in her right ear and a quiet voice followed. “Team Outpost?” Natasha quietly groaned, remembering herself being ditched to backup. <em>Outpost. </em></p><p>Natasha sniffed and pulled herself to a straighter sitting position before putting a finger to her comm in her ear. “This is Outpost. We’re in position. What’s the next move?”</p><p>“Comm Williams. We can’t seem to get through,” the agent replied, cool and collected. She looked at Clint who fidgeted with his ear piece, listening intently with a furrowed brow. They glanced at each other for split second.</p><p>“You’re unable to get through…” Natasha leaned over, pulling the computer out of the backpack. “Do we need to move in? Over?” She opened the computer, searching for the tackers of each agent pinpoint. They were all in their appointed positions.</p><p>“Move only on the order,” the agent replied. “Contact them, Agent Romanoff.” It didn’t make sense that the Quinjet couldn’t meet with all the teams. Worry started nipping at Natasha’s stomach. But she just nodded. “Calling in now.” She and Clint shared another look. “Team Alpha, do you copy?” Clint shifted in his seat, leaning a little closer to Natasha. “Agents, do you copy?”</p><p>Silence. Not even a static.</p><p>Clint stole the computer from her lap. “I’m not getting any response, base,” Natasha said. “I’ll comm the waterfront?” She swallowed hard when all she heard was a static feedback on the other end. Clint’s head jerked toward her.</p><p>Connection with base was gone. Williams was silent.</p><p>Natasha cursed, kicking her door open. “Natasha—” She barely heard the warning in his voice as she jumped out onto the wet pavement. She didn’t bother shutting the door but just moved around to the front of the car. Clint stepped out of the car but stayed by his door.</p><p>“Smirnov has gotten to the comms. Team A is down. The other agents will fall into a trap in seconds. We need to get down there,” she said, pulling out the Glock from her back holster.</p><p>“Natasha, base said only to get down there when they give the go,” he said, shaking his head. Natasha could remember the days when he would follow her anywhere, no matter what their bosses would say. He had trusted her then.</p><p>“There is no ‘go’, okay?!” she yelled, holding the Glock to her side. “Smirnov was expecting an attack of some kind— of course he was, what with that precious cargo. If we don’t move now… we’ll lose him!” She started to turn down the alleyway.</p><p>“You shouldn’t be the one to go in!” he yelled, slamming the car door. She shouldn’t have turned back but she did. Clint shook his head, wearily. “Smirnov will take advantage of you. You’re a greater prize than anything he’s trading tonight.”</p><p>“Then I’ll kill him where he stands,” she hissed, pulling the comm out of her ear and chucking it into a dirty puddle.</p><p>“We were supposed to bring him in alive, Natasha,” Clint growled. If he wanted to protect Smirnov so much, he’d have to get there before she did. She wasn’t going to lose Smirnov. Not this time. Natasha stared down the alleyway. “Natasha…” Clint said. There was that warning in his voice. And yet it somehow sounded like a dare.</p><p>Natasha shook her head, took a few steps back before turning and running down the tight alleyway, ignoring the sound of his curses as he slammed the car door shut.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>if you read the last chapter of my fanfic "even in war, i trust you", you know what memories she has of the barn ;)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Her panic turned to fierce determination as she ran. She had studied the city’s map, she knew each agent’s location. She would be on the scene before Smirnov pulled another string. Clint’s words seemed to float away with the cold wind— except one. She could still hear Clint’s warning, tempting her to slow her pace, backtrack, think through a plan— any plan.</p><p>But it was too late. They had lost contact with their teams and Smirnov would get away with any chance he got. Natasha couldn’t lose him. Not after all this time.</p><p>The cold night wasn’t dark enough yet for full invisibility but Natasha took advantage of the street’s shadows as well as she could. The agents point had been in a small park, far enough away from the local life but enough space to have eyes on every corner. They had been well hidden. And still Smirnov was one step of them.</p><p>Natasha slowed to a skip as she made her way through the shadows, her eyes on every corner, every building, every street. The city was alive for a late Sunday night. Drunk men staggered and sang as they moved through the streets, laughing when a taxi pressed their brakes just in time. Pedestrians came and went, staring at their phones or talking loudly with partners. Smirnov intended the city for its distraction. Her eyes caught sight of a bar down the street, alive with neon red lights, music and plenty of visitors coming in and out. No one, even S.H.I.E.L.D., would dare hit a city so busy and awake. Too many casualties, too many risks.</p><p>An iron fence wound around the perimeter of the park, along with large bushes and trees spreading shadows in the ground. Natasha slipped through, crouching against a tree. Along the grass line, against a few park benches, S.H.I.E.L.D. agents’ bodies were sprawled about, lying in odd positions, guns dropped by their sides.</p><p>Two mercs stood over the bodies, rifle strapped to their backs, skull cap snugged on, keeping the cold air from their ears. One had a sandwich dangling in his right hand. This was just an ordinary evening for him.</p><p>Natasha had seen this plenty of times. Especially from the likes of Smirnov. But even she couldn’t get it out of her head that these were good S.H.I.E.L.D. agents; young, smart, handsome. She worked with so many of them over the last few years. Their lives were cut short one evening by a man with a club sandwich.</p><p>Natasha glanced at her Glock for a second, the seconds ticking in her head like a drumbeat. Maybe it was her heartbeat. She looked back to the mercs chuckling. One lit a cigarette. <em>We were supposed to bring him in alive, Nat.</em> No one had said anything about theses guys.</p><p>Natasha pulled out her silencer from the compartment in her boot. She moved from the tree and snuck behind the mercs, locking the silencer into place on her gun. She inched closer and closer, keeping a steady eye on both the agents and their guards. She looked to her right and left, memorizing the perimeter… waited for the college girl to take the corner.</p><p>She shot the merc on the right first, the bullet sharply zipping through the back of his jacket. His cigarette went flying and he fell with a grunt. The other merc jumped to attention, but Natasha already had the gun pointed to his head. She took a breath and pulled the trigger again. She ran for him, catching him before he slumped, making any noise on the pavement he stood on. Blood stained the concrete and the contents of his sandwich littered the grass. Natasha gritted her teeth under his weight but she shrugged him off and into the grass, sneaking the rifle off his shoulders.</p><p>She stepped over their bodies, moving to the agents. There were about ten of them and not one stirred. Natasha didn't give up but instead dropped beside the leader. She remembered his name being Zac. He looked young, maybe thirty. She pressed two fingers against his neck. No pulse. She dropped her head, taking in a deep breath. She smelled cigarette smoke, blood, warm night air.</p><p>The mission was jeopardized. They’d lost their agents. And no comms to get backup. She got back to her feet, gripping the rifle in her left hand and slipping her Glock back in its holster. She pulled the merc’s packet of bullets from his belt before running through the park, intent on finding the other S.H.I.E.L.D. agents before Smirnov did.</p><p>She got to the other side of the park, looking over her shoulder once. If Clint had followed, she didn’t see a sign. If she didn’t, neither would Smirnov. She turned down a sidewalk, checking the cartridge of the rifle before swinging it over her shoulder. If her memory served her well— and it did— Team B were just a few buildings away. Street lights washed a warm yellow light across the street as she spied both her right and left for any citizens before skipping across. She slipped through another alleyway, gripping the rifle as the shadows compassed her.</p><p>The sounds of wet boots and hum of weaponry came around the corner and Natasha braced, ready for the attack. It was Team B’s location but she wasn’t taking any chances since the two mercs in the park. She pressed her back against the cold wall and inched closer to the edge of the corner. She heard their muttering voices but it was Agent Cameron’s voice to confirm it for her. “Base, we’re in position. Can you copy?”</p><p>She took a step around the corner, aiming her gun for the first agent that aimed for her head. “Relax, agents. We have a situation.”</p><p>“Romanoff?” Cameron moved from the back of the group, looking confused and then relieved at the sight of her. Both looks vanished soon enough. “What the hell are you doing here? Where’s Barton?”</p><p>Natasha, ignoring the question, shook her head and moved into the group. “Smirnov knows we’re here. Comms are dead.” She lifted an eyebrow to his walkie-talkie on the left side of his chest. He put a hand to it, then to the com in his ear. They stared at each other for a second. Silence like that wouldn’t make any one easy. They were on their own. “Smirnov is making the drop-off in the city. Team Alpha is down.”</p><p>They stilled. A shadow fell over the men and their guns went slack. Half of her wanted to move them forward and finish the mission. Smirnov was playing the game if the agents stopped to grieve. But she felt sympathy for the company. She had felt the heaviness of the agents’ deaths. They were friends and family to this team. Natasha didn’t challenge the silence. She glanced over her shoulder, catching shadows in the dim street light a few feet away. The night was getting darker.</p><p>When she turned back, Cameron looked like he was now straining under the heaviest weight. He sniffed and stood straighter. “Alright. How far? Did they get to their location?”</p><p>“They were in their position. Two mercs were standing over them. No doubt waiting for more orders.” Natasha swung the rifle over her shoulder. “The point is Smirnov’s team is in the city.”</p><p>“And so is Navolsky,” Cameron added. He suddenly frowned at her. “The others? The agents at the waterfront?” Natasha nodded. The waterfront was where most of their agents were now. Waiting patiently, never knowing they wouldn’t actually see action that night. “We need to regroup,” he said, turning to his agents. “We’ll move down to the lake.”</p><p>Natasha sighed, glancing back at the agents. Cameron had lives to take care of. The typical first move of any leader. But—</p><p>She moved forward. “You move your agents to the waterfront, you will lose Smirnov. He knows we’re here— Navolsky’s deal will be off or postponed. If that happens, we will lose all the leads we worked damn hard to find these last few months. We have to get them now.”</p><p>“Let me remind you, Agent Romanoff—”</p><p>“I was brought in this case for one reason alone, Agent Cameron: to take down the Red Room and any of their loose strings. Smirnov will not stop at anything— you heard! He killed those agents. He will get away and he will be all the more powerful for it. I’m here to stop hm. So are you. We may never find him again. — this is our chance.”</p><p>The two agents stared at each other for a long moment. She only supposed it as a good sign. He was listening to her, contemplating what she’d said. He would be the first to do so that day. Water dripped somewhere in the alley, echoing a small <em>tap tap</em> in the silence. They stared at each other while the other agents held their breath. Natasha counted down the seconds, irritation and nervousness starting at her stomach. They only had so little time.</p><p>Cameron suddenly groaned and looked away from the group. His agents watched him, worryingly. “We’d be disobeying orders. But you know your way around this case better than anyone, Romanoff.” He turned back to her and clicked his tongue. “I’m trusting you.”</p><p>Natasha took in a breath. She hadn’t realized how good it would feel knowing someone had her back. But a heavy weight seemed to fall off her shoulders and motivation filled the blood in her veins. Natasha nodded to him, thanking him in her own way. “We’re outnumbered. We can’t reach base and the agents at the waterfront are in the dark. We’re not sure of whatever more traps Smirnov has laid. So we can’t risk it. We’re on our own here…” She looked over her shoulder and then down the alleyway. “We’re going into the bar.”</p><p>Cameron jerked his head towards her. The agents squirmed. “The bar? Romanoff, you’ll lose your cover in minutes. You wanna risk that so early in this mission?”</p><p>“We don’t have a choice, do we? Smirnov already knows we’re here. He’s still going with his plan—why would his goons still be in the city if he wasn’t? We don’t have backup of any kind, we don’t even have contact with each other other than face to face.” Natasha shook a hand in the air. “Look, we know Novolsky is a roisterer as it is. He likes his drink, his women, even poker. He’s likely to do business in his comfort zone. He’ll be in the bar. We find him, we find Smirnov.”</p><p>Cameron hesitated again... before giving a quick nod of his head. “Fine. But let’s focus on getting the drop-off— not Smirnov.” Natasha readied to argue but he already had a hand in the air. “I know he’s important. But at the end of the day, that package is the ultimate goal. It cannot be lost. If it’s as important as we’re guessing, we’re bound to get him along with it. Do we have a deal?”</p><p>Natasha hesitated this time. Cameron just eyed her. So did the other agents. Natasha slapped a hand against her leg. “Fine. Let’s do this, then.”</p><p>_____________________</p><p>Natasha stepped into the bar, the heels of her boots sending creaks along the wood floors. Music played on the speakers— Natasha found each of them in the corners of the room. There were as many people in the building as she’d thought. College kids lounged on one side of the room, computers and beers spread across the short table in front of their chairs. There was a pool table further down the room and two four men were sloppy drunk, cheering each other on. People, young and old, mingled in every corner and every space of the room.</p><p>One barman stood behind the counter on the right side of Natasha, cleaning a cup. An assembly of drinks seemed to glow behind him. Barmaid rushed back and forth, their tight blouses leaving less to the imagine of the men’s gaze.</p><p>Working men sat at the bar, eyes only on the drinks in their hands. Tired and stressed. Natasha could tell by the slump of one man’s shoulders that he was likely having troubles at home. The bar would be the next place to stop in.</p><p>Further down the room, she spied a curtain, a split in the middle, making an entrance. It was likely a game room, maybe a quiet poker game inside. Warm light spilled from the crack and she caught the familiar sounds of laughter and card shuffling.</p><p>Natasha assessed the scene in a heartbeat. Only two agents, Downes and Grant, came in with her. Downes and Grant abandoned their rather large guns with the others, sticking only the the guns at their thigh. Natasha left her batons and stole a jacket from one of the agents, hiding some of the obvious looks of her suit. She still felt unprepared and open to the crowd.</p><p>A few people walked in before and after them, obscuring the entrance of three complete strangers to the crowd, but Natasha knew their presence wouldn’t be undetected for long. She glanced at the bar again, nothing one man watching them over his glass of beer. He looked too long.</p><p>She stepped further through the bar, the two agents following close behind. “He’s one of them,” Downes muttered so quietly Natasha mostly heard it through their radio. Yeah, one of Cameron’s agents had created a bit of a makeshift comm, which they still weren’t sure was working completely.</p><p>Natasha moved through the room before sitting at the bar. “виски,” she muttered, glancing at the drinks behind him. He moved to get her order. Downes stayed by her side but Grant moved around the room. Natasha looked to Downes. “He’s here.” She directed her attention back to the man with the beer. He turned his chin against his shoulder. A small shift of his lips against the fabric of his sweater. He was talking to someone.</p><p>The bartender slid the whiskey in front of her, landing a napkin beside it. Natasha brought the whiskey to her lips. “I could take a wild guess that Hendricks wouldn’t approve of drinking on the job,” Downes muttered, drumming his fingers against the wood of the bar.</p><p>Natasha smirked back at him and slipped her knuckles against her lips. She glanced over her shoulder. “I’m guess our drop-off will be in that room.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Downes. “Heads up, there’s a guard,” he said, looking back to the bartender who talked quietly with one of the barmaids. Natasha snuck a glance at not only one rather large man, but two of them. Dressed in black armor, guns at their hips, eyes on the bar. They were likely Novolsky’s men. But Smirnov was there.</p><p>“We have to get in there,” Natasha muttered, scraping her fingernail along the lining of the napkin. She looked back to the beer man but he was no longer looking in her direction. She frowned. “Move, Downes.”</p><p>“Wha—” Natasha felt a the barrel of gun pressed to the back of her head.</p><p>She cursed under her breath.</p><p>“<em>You— turn around</em>!” The Russian commands seemed to echo off the room. People around them quieted but the music still blared. Natasha cocked a head but lifted her hands not high enough to her shoulders. She and Downes shared a look before they both turned. Grant was just behind them, a gun to his head as well. The gunned Russians glared at them, their knuckles white with the grip they had on their guns.</p><p>“Hey, fellas,” Natasha muttered. “Did we crash the party?”</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm dumb but now posting a chapter yay!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>To say the guys were pushy, was an understatement. Natasha smothered down the urge to punch at least one of them. Most of the bar occupants didn’t even seem to react to the guns and barked orders as Natasha and Downes was pushed toward the curtained off room.</p>
<p>At least she was moving to exactly where she needed to be. She clenched her fists, taking in a deep breath. She would hold out on the punching.</p>
<p>Two men beside the entrance pulled open the curtain and both she and Downes were shoved into the room. Natasha stumbled forward, scanning the room. Warm, hazy light barely lit the stuffy room, round tables filled the expanse and at least forty men were inside. A few barmaids loitered by a corner. A poker room. Cigar smoke billowed toward the ceilings. She could hear every clink of chips, every mutter for cards, every grind of weaponry.</p>
<p>She was pushed forward again and she gave some resist, kicking her elbow back. The guard was obviously touchy and he didn’t resist the chance to dig his gun into her back and grip her shoulder with a vice. She gritted her teeth but allowed him to lead her. Downes stayed beside her, calm and relaxed as if he didn’t have a gun to his back as well.</p>
<p>They were dragged to a table in the darker part of the room, where two men sat playing cards. Natasha recognized the smaller man to be Navolsky. The man beside him had to be his bodyguard. He glared up at Natasha but Navolsky never lifted his eyes from his cards. “<em>I thought I made it quite clear we weren’t to be interrupted, Kuznetsov.</em>”</p>
<p>Downes looked to Natasha, maybe hoping for the Russian translation but she didn’t give him attention. The guard gripping Natasha’s shoulder stumbled over his words for a second. “<em>These two were in the bar. S.H.I.E.L.D. garb, sir</em>.”</p>
<p>“<em>Well, we already knew S.H.I.E.L.D. was in the area, didn’t we</em>?” It wouldn’t take a genius to understand he was talking about the soldiers in the park. Navolsky finally looked up. “Natalia Romanov. What a pleasure,” he said, in broken English. Natasha didn’t budge. “Word is you’ve disappeared these past five years. I’m honored you felt like coming out of hiding for me.”</p>
<p>Natasha scoffed. “Where’s Smirnov, Gleb?”</p>
<p>Navolsky stared at her for a long moment. He flicked his fingers and the soldier let go of her at the command. Natasha shook out her shoulder.</p>
<p>“Word travels fast, it seems,” Navolsky said, looking back to his cards. “But not fast enough for you.”</p>
<p>“He’s still here,” Natasha said, switching her weight to one leg. “Don’t— don’t try to lie to me.”</p>
<p>“You’ve lost, Romanoff. Your fools alerted your presence. He had plenty of time to slip away. Why do you think he would stay?”</p>
<p>Natasha couldn’t answer quick enough. She knew he couldn’t be gone. But she wasn't sure why or how she knew. It was just a gut feeling…</p>
<p>“Because I wouldn’t leave without seeing her,” a voice added from the shadows toward the back of the room. A stillness seemed to come over the room. Everyone had heard him. The richness and sooth of his voice. The thick accent.</p>
<p>The voice of her past.</p>
<p>Downes was looking at her again. Natasha swallowed, keeping her eyes on the shadows.</p>
<p>“Because Natalia Romanova never disappeared. She’s been working quite hard.” He stepped out of the shadows, his eyes solely on her. She squirmed just being under his gaze. He looked almost the exact same after all these years. A black trench coat over his shoulders. The familiar scar across his left cheek. His hair cut short, only now white. A sneer across his lips. His gaze on her— the gaze of a champion for his greatest prize.</p>
<p>Alexander Smirnov and his Black Widow.</p>
<p>“Natalia… You believed I never saw you coming?”</p>
<p>She’d been chasing him for five years. There had always been a possibility he’d sense her out there. He’d figure S.H.I.E.L.D, of course. Alexander Smirnov wouldn’t have survived so long if he didn’t know how to watch his back. But he knew she’d been there? She had taken the greatest precautions in keeping her tracks hidden. Maybe he’d always believed she'd come after him soon enough.</p>
<p>Natasha lifted her head… and kicked her elbow back, making perfect impact with Kuznetsov’s nose. He fell quick but she’d already snatched the knife from his belt. Ruckus filled the space around her; Downes fighting off another soldier, poker chips falling to the ground, commands shouted for more reinforcements. But she was already Navolsky, pulling his head back and pressing the cold blade to his throat.</p>
<p>All the while she kept eye contact with Smirnov.</p>
<p>A mix of yells in Russian and broken English filled the space. <em>Put the gun down. Stop! Get the guys in here. Should I take her?</em></p>
<p>The last question made Natasha’s eyes dart to the two men standing behind Smirnov. She pushed the knife further into Navolsky’s throat. “It will take just ten seconds for him to bleed out here. You need him, right? He has the guns, the coverage? I kill him now… What happens to you?”</p>
<p>Smirnov chuckled, as if it was exactly what he wanted her to do.</p>
<p>A shiver went up her spine. Maybe it was what he wanted.</p>
<p>He took a step forward. “Would you kill him, Black Widow? Famed Avenger? Trusted S.H.I.E.L.D. agent? Another murder on your record? How would your people feel about that?”</p>
<p>He was already wrong on two counts. She was no longer an Avenger. She wasn’t exactly a trusted S.H.I.E.L.D. agent nowadays. She was just the Black Widow. She lifted an eyebrow.</p>
<p>“They’re not here.”</p>
<p>“Romanoff!” Downes yelled, but everyone seemed to ignore him.</p>
<p>“No, they’re not,” Smirnov said with a nod. Natasha could feel her hands start to shake. She could hear Novolasky’s heavy breathing. His swallow wobbled the blade. Her knuckles were white the grip she had on the knife. Her eyes moved around the room. Downes had his hands out to her, as if trying to make her calm down. Others had guns aimed for her. “DO IT!” Smirnov yelled, pointing a fist at her.</p>
<p>There was a loud crash and then shouts and bullets rang through the bar. S.H.I.E.L.D. had arrived. Their small but fighting team. If all had gone according to plan, they had pulled the agents from the waterfront. Agents would be storming the building in seconds. Downes turned to the goon behind him, beating him to the ground and stealing his gun. The others moved their guns from Natasha to the curtained doorway. Natasha let go of Navolsky, kicking him to the ground. She looked back—</p>
<p>Smirnov was just ducking into a doorway in the shadows, his bodyguards staying to give him cover. Natasha pulled Glock from Novolasky’s table and shot at the nearest one, the tall blonde. He dodged and the other ran around a table. Natasha kept moving, dropping to her knees when a bullet whizzed past her shoulder. Navolsky’s men seemed preoccupied with S.H.I.E.L.D. so she kept her focus on the two bodyguards. But Smirnov was getting away.</p>
<p>She had to take down these guys, fast.</p>
<p>She made a summersault across the room, landing at the feet of the blonde bodyguard. She kicked his feet, messing up his balance, and threw her fist into his face. She rolled over, shooting at the other but he again, dodged. She turned back as the blonde was recovering. She jumped up on his shoulders but he was stronger than she suspected and she never got around to flipping him to the ground. He grabbed her leg and pulled her down, kicking his elbow against her head. She saw stars but she was up quick, kicking him in the nuts. She heard the other’s yells: “<em>Get out of the way</em>!” Natasha grabbed the arm of the blonde, pulling him in front of her so he got the intended shot for her. Straight through the chest.</p>
<p>Bloods splattered on Natasha but she just kicked his body away, aiming her gun for the other guard. He took two bullets to the chest and dropped, his large gun skidding across the room. Natasha snatched it up, gave once glance to the havoc in the room and then ducked out to the small door Smirnov had taken.</p>
<p>It was a dark hallway and the sound of something dripping echoed off the stone walls. Natasha stuck Navolsky’s gun in the back of her belt and held the large gun close to her chest. Her eye caught on the steps leading down into further darkness. A basement of some kind. Natasha didn’t think twice before taking the steps, her gun trained to the darkness before her. The steps were made of wood so they creaked with every step she took.</p>
<p>But she wasn’t going to lose Smirnov.</p>
<p>A blueish light appeared on the ceiling the further she went. The steps ended and she landed on concrete. She kept her gun aimed in front of her, taking the turn into the room. She was in room half open to the outside. There was a small pond, a shed, old gigantic trees, a laundry truck. She realized the bar was indeed on a hill. The open basement led to this small spot. A perfect place to drop cargo— and a laundry truck?</p>
<p>A perfect cover. But cliché.</p>
<p>And there he was. Smirnov was on his own now. But he seemed perfectly calm about it. And pleased. He was smiling again. Natasha kept the gun aimed on him. “I’m glad you followed me.”</p>
<p>“Really? You aren’t at all annoyed I killed both your bodyguards up there?”</p>
<p>“On the contrary,” he said, taking a step to the right. Natasha watched every move he made. “I’m glad you’re so capable. You’re not that much different than when I first let you out into the field, Natalia.”</p>
<p>Natasha tensed. She remembered the first mission. A simple theft operation. A bullet to one man’s head. A fist fight with one guard. She managed to run off with the package. Another young Black Widow had been with her. She hadn’t made it. And Natasha had left her. She was only fifteen.</p>
<p>“Maybe a little more mature, of course,” Smirnov said, looking back to her. Natasha took another step to her right while he took another to his right. They would be walking in a circle now. “I wonder now, though…” he said, looking in the sky above them. “Why you have decided to finally look for me. You tracked me here, after all.”</p>
<p>“I didn’t have a good lead on you until six years ago,” she said, and why she was actually answering him, she wasn’t sure.</p>
<p>He laughed. “Oh, Natalia. You could’ve found me long before if you wanted to.” He stopped his walking and turned to her. “No. Something happened to have led you here. I’d hoped you wanted to come back to us. But no, you’ve lost something.” He cocked his head. “And so you decided to come finish off the very people who created you.”</p>
<p>Natasha just stared at him. Sweat started to build at her hairline. How—</p>
<p>“You’re no longer an Avenger.” He chuckled again. “I keep up with social media, you know. No, now you’re just the Black Widow. Solo. Just like I created you to be. Oh, how it embarrassed me to see you with the American flag boy and—who was arrow man, again?”</p>
<p>Natasha swallowed.</p>
<p>“But here you are. The small girl I created to be the greatest killer. Away from the good and true “team”. My prize creation. Never has there been one better than you.”</p>
<p>“Then you know it won’t be hard for me to kill you.”</p>
<p>“And yet it took you eighteen years for you to come to this point.”</p>
<p>“You’ve been taking children!” Natasha yelled, lifting her gun higher.</p>
<p>He laughed. “Oh, you have been tracking me!” Natasha took quick strides to him, planting her fist into his jaw. He fell back but kept to his feet. Natasha grabbed the front of his jacket and pushed him into the nearest wall, keeping the gun against his chest.</p>
<p>“You won’t be hurting any one ever again after today,” she seethed.</p>
<p>He just smiled at her. “What do you plan to do?”</p>
<p>“I’ll put a bullet in that skull of yours if you don’t shut up!”</p>
<p>A strong hand suddenly fell on her shoulder and Smirnov’s smile widened. Natasha didn’t have time to think before she was heaved and thrown through the air like a raggedy doll.</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>b o o m !!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She fell hard on the concrete.</p><p>Natasha gasped in the breath that was stolen from her chest and lifted her head. A young girl stood next to Smirnov, her blonde hair pulled tight into a ponytail, dressed in a skin tight black suit similar to hers. She was tall and slender and her face had the most sharp edges. Her eyes seemed dazed as if she wasn’t really investing herself too much into the situation.</p><p>It was always easier to be like that. It was easy to murder when you were never invested.</p><p>Natasha groaned, pulling herself back to her knees.</p><p>“Remember, Natalia,” Smirnov called. “You weren’t the only Black Widow I created.” The girl started to make quick strides toward her. “But you were always the best. Even Ivan believed it.” Smirnov’s words made her stomach flip but she kept her eye on the girl. “Let’s see if it’s still true.”</p><p>The girl swung her leg for Natasha’s face but Natasha grabbed her boot just in time. The girl barely flinched but Natasha twisted her grip and kicked her away. The girl landed on her side but she was up before Natasha, cracking her neck. The movement was slow and relaxing, like she was just warming up for the smallest task. It made Natasha uneasy.</p><p>But she got back on her own feet, pulling out one of her batons. The girl barely smiled and pulled out her own baton. It was small, slender. And then she cocked it, releasing the entirety. It was a bit longer than Natasha’s. Natasha let out a breath. The girl was young. She likely didn’t have the experience Natasha did. And besides, Natasha had more fighting skills than they trained in the Red Room. She had more surprises. But why did Smirnov want her to prove herself? Why did she want to prove herself?</p><p>Other than getting killed…</p><p>The girl yelled and dove for Natasha, nicking her thigh with the edge of her baton. Natasha spun around, landing on her knee. She caught Smirnov’s eye for just a second. It felt like her old training sessions. Smirnov was always somewhere around, safe behind the glass, watching her steady moves. He had the same look watching her, now. She jumped back to her feet, swinging her baton at the girl this time, sending a good blow to her shoulder. Natasha was repaid with a blow to her ribcage.</p><p>The girl dropped to the ground, sliding her foot toward Natasha’s in order to trip her up. But Natasha knew the move and flipped backwards, landing just close enough on her shoulders to kick herself back up, landing her boot right into the girl’s face.</p><p>Natasha landed back on her feet and snatched up her baton. Blood was spilling from the girl’s nose but Natasha barely noticed over the barrel of the gun pointed up at her.</p><p>Natasha counted the seconds in her head.</p><p>And kicked the gun away. The girl jumped up and ran for Natasha’s middle, throwing her into a wall. Stunned, Natasha tried kicking her off her but the girl came back, punching her in the nose, the jaw, the eye. Natasha ducked the fourth blow and the girl’s fist went into the wall. She screamed out and Natasha throw her elbow into her cheek. The girl fell back and Natasha kicked her, searching the room to find Smirnov still there, checking the time on his watch.</p><p>Natasha scoffed with unbelief.</p><p>She heard the girl growl, and suddenly she was up again. Obviously, she was determined not to give in. And maybe Natasha understood that. To defeat the famed Natasha Romanoff? Who knew what award Smirnov would have for her. She lunged for Natasha again, this time reaching for the gun at the back of Natasha’s belt.</p><p>Natasha fought her off, snatching the gun from the girl. They went to the ground, fighting over the gun, punching each other when the space was open, kneeing each other, spitting, puling hair. The girl had one move for every move Natasha made. Natasha would always duck and dodge, making the girl angry every time she failed.</p><p>And then there was a sudden shot, ringing out in the air around them. Natasha felt the impact. The smell of gunpowder filled her nostrils. The the gun was suddenly hot against her grip. The girl took in a shuddering breath, her skin paled.</p><p>She went slack and Natasha scrambled away from her body. The young girl fell against the concrete, a pool of blood forming around her chest.</p><p>Someone clapping made Natasha jolt, turning quick on Smirnov, aiming the gun for his chest. He barely seemed to notice. “Natalia… quite the entertainment. She was good. She was very good.”</p><p>Natasha took in deep breaths, her gun aimed perfectly. Her hand shook.</p><p>He cocked his head toward her. “You’re just better.”</p><p>“You wanted me to kill her!”</p><p>“I wanted you to prove yourself!” he growled. “Killing Navolasky would be easy. Even killing my guards would be easy. But this…” He looked to the girl and back to her. “This is the best accomplishment you’ve made since you left us.”</p><p><em>Us</em>. Smirnov and Ivan Petrovich had owned her for so long. Ivan was dead. But the Red Room would still live on. Smirnov was still living. In a lot of ways, they did still own her.</p><p>“We’re still in that head of yours,” he said, tapping his finger against his temple. Natasha shook her head, taking a step toward him, her grip tightening on the gun. “Where’s your drop-off?!”</p><p>He scoffed. “That sample will be nothing compared to what I will create. To what we could create.”</p><p>Natasha swallowed. <em>We</em>?</p><p>“Oh, Natalia,” Smirnov said, a hit of apology in his voice. “You think chasing me wouldn’t have its consequences? You think I would leave here without my greatest prize?”</p><p>“Wha—” Two men dressed in black suddenly dropped from what roof there was of the garage, large guns in arms, masks over their face. Natasha shot at both of them, but just got one in the shoulder. The other was off his cable hook and running for her. She heard the laundry truck doors swing open and she knew they were coming after from all sides. She didn’t have time to think to strategize—</p><p>A whizzing noise caught her attention. She looked to the patch of grass, just a few feet from the fallen girl. An arrow had landed in the greenery.</p><p>She might have smirked. She might have felt so relieved. But she was just shocked. He had come after her. Clint was still there.</p><p>Natasha moved to the first man, kicking him in the knee and punching him quick. The other three soldiers ran to her; punches meeting her ribs, hand grabbing fistfuls of her hair, someone tried to push a wet rag to her nose. She could smell just a whiff of the drug before ducking her head and stumping the foot of the merch behind her.</p><p>She heard grunts and more arrows coming into the group and two of the merchs let go of her. Big mistake. Natasha took the arm of the soldier in front of her, twisting until he dropped the smelly cloth. She twisted his arm behind him, kicking him in the knee pit. She grabbed his gun from his holster and kicked him in the head with it. She turned quick to the others, finally seeing Clint.</p><p>He was fighting both of the merchs, swinging his bow at both of them. One went down, wiping blood from his jaw. Clint grunted against a blow before pulling an arrow from his back and shooting it straight through the man’s chest.</p><p>The other was just getting up but Natasha sent a blow to the back of his neck. He dropped and Natasha’s pulled the gun from his leg holster.</p><p>“You okay?” Clint said, moving to her. She looked up at Clint and noticing the blood at his lip, made her put a few fingers to her nose. She brought her hand back, showing dark blood. It made her dizzy seeing it and blood never ever made her sick. But she accounted it from the blow to her head when she fell and not to mention being slammed into a wall and maybe getting a sniff of that drugged cloth.</p><p>“Thanks,” she breathed, slapping a hand on his shoulder. He smiled and nodded but she didn’t wait long before turning and pointing the gun for Smirnov. He still stood there. “And now,” she said, breathlessly. “Is the arrow man a joke to you, now?”</p><p>“Oh, quite possibly,” he said, folding his hands.</p><p>There was a shot and Clint yelled out, dropping to the ground. Natasha ran back to him, dropping beside him. Blood spurted from his shoulder. “Clint!” She looked around their area, frantically. All the merchs were still down, the girl was still dead, Smirnov stayed still— Natasha lifted her head.</p><p><em>Sniper</em>.</p><p>Her pulse skipped. The sniper glared at her over the scope of his gun. They stared at each other but he never acted as if he’d shoot her. They wanted her. They would do anything necessary to get her.</p><p>She growled and took Clint’s bow out of his hand, snatched two arrows from his quiver and aimed quick. The shoot dodged but he wouldn’t have time with this. She shot the arrow and it landed into the high wall, a red light blinking on and off with it. The explosion blew the wall and the roof, smoke and fire billowing. He wouldn’t survive that blast.</p><p>Natasha turned back, instinctively shooting Smirnov in his shoulder, the exact spot Clint was hurt. He yelled out and dropped to the ground, putting a hand to his wound.</p><p>“Natasha— Natasha!” Clint startled, jumping to his feet beside her. “What are—” He grunted over the pain of his shoulder but he was still moving. “Stop, Nat—”</p><p>Natasha walked around him and made quick strides for Smirnov, aiming this time for his head. “Isn’t this funny? Your creation— now ready to kill you.”</p><p>“Do it, then,” Smirnov said, breathing around his pain.</p><p>“Natasha, don’t!” Clint yelled.</p><p>“Why shouldn’t I?!” Natasha yelled, keeping her back to Clint. “We were told to bring him in alive! There is no gain in killing him!”</p><p>“Will you listen to him? You’ve wanted this chance for so long, Natalia.</p><p>“STOP CALLING ME THAT!” she ordered, taking another step toward him.</p><p>“Natasha, this is exactly what he wants you to do!” Clint said, frantically. Natasha looked back to him. He shook his head. “You kill him now, you won’t be able to walk away from that.”</p><p>“We’re still in your head, Romanova.” Natasha looked back to Smirnov. He shook his head, sweat beating at his hairline. “You know what to do.” Her head was starting to spin. A ringing started in her ears. Her heartbeat hiccuped and hiccuped. Her hands shook as she kept her grip on the gun taunt.</p><p>“Natasha,” Clint’s voice echoed back, calm and even. She looked back to him, taking in a deep breath. He put his hands out to her, ignoring the pain of his shoulder. “Let him live. Let him serve his time, get the justice he deserves. Don’t you see? He gets out of everything if you kill him now.” Clint shook his head. “Yeah, he might be in your head, Nat. We’re always gonna live with our demons. But he has no power over you. You aren’t his.”</p><p>“Do it, Romanova!” Smirnov yelled but Natasha kept her eyes to Clint.</p><p>Clint ignored him too and straighten, putting a hand back to his wound. Blood stained his hand. “It might have been five years, Nat. Maybe we’ve all changed a lot in five years. But I <em>know</em> you are not the murderer he believes he created.”</p><p>Natasha took in a shuddering breath and her grip went slack on the gun. It dropped onto the concrete, clattering in the silence of three wounded and exhausted people. Natasha run a hand along her scalp and stepped away from Smirnov.</p><p>“No, no— what the hell are you doing?!” he yelled, struggling back to his feet.</p><p>Natasha just stared at him. She glanced at Clint once before pulling handcuffs from the back of her belt. “Alexander Smirnov, by the powers invested in me, I’m arresting you for the trafficking and murder of innocent individuals.” She shoved him around, pushing him into the wall and handcuffing his hands. She didn’t hold back on pulling on his shoulder back and he yelled out again. “You’ll be seeing a life time sentence for everything you’ve done.”</p><p>Heavy footsteps and “all clears” could be heard from steps she had descended before. Clint let out a relieved sigh and Natasha stepped back, shoving Smirnov to the ground. The S.H.I.E.L.D. agents poured in, making sure the area was clear, their guns all to the read. Many of them kept their guns aimed at Smirnov, while the others arrested the sleeping merchs.</p><p>Natasha turned away from their work and moved to the laundry truck, throwing hair over her shoulder. She wiped at the blood at her nose and she knew she was just making a mess of it. Her head still hummed and she knew her footsteps weren’t too sure.</p><p>She stopped in front of the truck for a second, taking in deep breath. She had been close to killing him. She had wanted to kill him so bad. She was still shaking with the rage. She shook away the thoughts and swung open the tuck door.</p><p>The loudest wails of a baby filled her ears and she stiffened, the air taken out of her lungs for the fifth time that night.</p><p>A baby? A baby was the drop-off?</p><p>Natasha took an unsteady step away from the truck, putting a hand to her stomach.</p><p>She stumbled and then it all went black.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They used to help each other escape hospitals. They were sometimes as bad as prisons. Sure they were always sterile white, there were rhythmic beeps and hums from medical machines and the kind nurse would walk in periodically. Sure, there were those things.</p><p>But they were always so stuffy, confining. The doctors and nurses believed they relied on them, trusted them to help. But they never needed anyone. They always felt the need to escape.</p><p>Which is why he didn’t let them anywhere near each other this time.</p><p>Her eyes fluttered open. She took in a deep breath, curling her fists around the sheets beneath her. She searched her surroundings and the beeping on the monitor started to pick up. “Natasha—Nat,” he said, dropping a hand on her wrist. She jerked her head to him and he smiled. “You’re okay.”</p><p>“Phil,” she groaned, looking around the room again. “What happened?”</p><p>“Well, I would say it was plain exhaustion,” he said, sitting back in the chair he had spent the night in. He shrugged. “Also a good amount of bleeding and a minor concussion. You passed out. But they got you here quick. You’ll be okay.”</p><p>Natasha rested her head back on the pillow, sighing. “Yeah…” She lifted her head quick enough, though, grimacing slightly before spitting out the question: “Smirnov?”</p><p>“In custody,” he said, a bit of pride welling in his chest. Pride in their department, pride in Natasha and Clint. Pride in himself for sticking it out this long. It was never his idea to station in the Ukraine— far from it. But he did what he was ordered. And Fury wanted him there. He had accomplished the mission now. His team had done their work.</p><p>Natasha stared at up at the ceiling, breathing in deep. “Clint? Is he okay?”</p><p>“Yeah. A good slug in the shoulder. But he’s stable. He’s good.”</p><p>She stayed silent for a long moment, her eyes on the ceiling, her hands still clutching the sheets. He heard laugher coming from the hallway, some of the nurses chatting as they passed the open doorway. She never moved, never tensed. But he could tell she was alert. She was thinking. She was thinking hard.</p><p>He dropped his head, looking at his hands in his lap. When she finally took a breath, he looked up to see her biting her lower lip. “You were right…”</p><p>“Again?” he teased but the joke fell flat. She didn’t even blink.</p><p>“You were right to bring Clint in.” When she turned her head to him, a single tear slipped down her cheek. He was ashamed how much it shocked him. He knew Natasha was capable of having feeling. But she so seldom showed them, especially around him or any other of her coworkers. It caught him off guard. He managed a nod and a quiet “sure”. Natasha shook her head, blinking against the tears. “I would’ve killed him. I wanted to kill him.”</p><p>Phil nodded. He had heard everything from Clint when he was still conscious. Natasha took in a deep breath. “Thanks for bringing him in.”</p><p>Phil smiled and then stood, squeezing Natasha’s hand. She squeezed back. “...Now rest up. Fury’s coming in.”</p><p>Natasha frowned, pulling her hand from his. “He is—why?”</p><p>Phil sighed, putting a hand in his pocket. “After what happened today…” He looked back to her. She no longer looked confused but she hardly looked comfortable. “He needs to come in, Nat. We’ve finished our operative now. Smirnov’s in custody. We even got the trade.”</p><p>Natasha cleared her throat. “The child?”</p><p>“Little girl. Not yet a year old.” Natasha cursed under her breath, her eyes scanning the room again. “They’re getting younger.” She looked back to him. “Smirnov said he would create something even greater. That this sample— this child— was just the beginning. But he needed me. He was willing to risk a lot to take me with him.”</p><p>“You’re safe now,” Phil said, putting a hand out to her.</p><p>She eyed him and released a weak chuckle. “I don’t think I’ll ever be safe.” She wiped a tear from her cheek and blinked rapidly. “Comes with the job.”</p><p>Phil watched her carefully but found he had no words to say.</p><p>_________________</p><p>Clint let his legs swing back and forth over the edge of the bed, waiting patiently (but not so patiently) for the nurse. They would have to be mad to keep in the med wing for long. He needed to get out. In fact he probably should just escape and try to find Natasha.</p><p>She didn’t like any type of hospital. She’d need his help to escape. Or maybe she was already on his way to help him.</p><p>He scoffed just thinking of it. He was betting she'd probably not do it.</p><p>“You did good work out there, Barton,” Hendricks said, stepping into the room, a clipboard full of papers with him. Clint felt his skin crawl and he was even more determined about escaping. It wasn’t that he was suspicious of Hendricks of anything— he just didn’t like him. He was positive the feelings were mutual since Hendricks never met his eye while “praising” him. “Who knows what would've happened if you hadn’t showed up.” Clint grunted. “How’s the arm?”</p><p>“I’ll be fine,” he said, looking at his bandaged arm. He’d been shot in the shoulder perfectly by that sniper. He was fine. But it hurt like hell and it would take a few months to fully heal. “How’s Natasha? Have you seen her?”</p><p>“Director Coulson has been taking care of her. I don’t think she’ll be seeing many visitors.” Clint rolled his eyes and looked away. “But I think you should be prepared to hear she’ll be getting a different change of pace these next few months.”</p><p>“What are you talking about?”</p><p>Hendricks took in a breath, looking away from his clipboard. “Director Fury is coming in. He’ll be here late tonight. After everything that’s happened… Natasha will be <em>lucky</em> to be suspended for the time being.”</p><p>“What are you— She just got Smirnov for you!”</p><p>“And disobeyed orders, almost killed twenty of my men and almost killed Smirnov, for that matter. The ends don’t always justify the means, Barton.” Clint scoffed and gently slipped off the bed, moving for his abandoned jacket on the arm of a chair. “The actions you saw Romanoff take tonight have been the same actions she’s been taking for months. She’s out of control. She needs to step away from this case.”</p><p>Clint grunted as he pulled his jacket over his good arm. He couldn’t argue with Hendricks on that point no matter how much he didn’t like him. He was right. Natasha should have never been involved with something so close to home. Clint nodded and turned back to Hendricks. “You might be right.” Hendricks looked stunned Clint might agree with him but he nodded, looking back to his stack of papers. “Tell me about the kid,” Clint said, pointing a finger to the papers. “I brought her in. Is she okay?”</p><p>Clint could still feel how light and small the baby had been in his arms. No shoulder wound had stopped him from comforting and taking her back to the base. She was absolutely beautiful though terrified of everything and everyone around her. She’d fallen asleep by the time he gave her to a nurse half an hour ago.</p><p>“She’s at least seven months. There’s no way to find her parents—she likely has none. These cases tend to end with the undeniable proof that either the child’s parents were killed or the child was abandoned by the parents to the captors. But we have every doctor and scientist looking after her and testing… It’s quite clear she has the serum in her veins.”</p><p>Clint cursed, slipping his wounded arm through the jacket. “So what will happen to her?”</p><p>Hendricks pressed the clipboard to his side. “I’m sure Director Fury will have a plan or two.” He started for the door and turned back. “In all honestly… do you really believe Romanoff wouldn’t have killed Smirnov?”</p><p>Clint took in a deep breath. He knew what he wanted his answer to be. But he knew it would eat him alive wondering and wondering if he just answered flippantly. So he gave the only answer he could possibly stomach. “I don’t know.”</p><p>Hendricks nodded and then stepped out of the door. Clint rubbed his face with his good hand and looked around the room. The nurse was no where to be seen. Clint took it as his cue to duck out of the room.</p><p>He never saw Coulson or Natasha once he escaped the med wing. He hoped she’d been okay and discharged early. He thought a lot about what Hendricks had said. Natasha had never been suspended in all her years as a S.H.I.E.L.D. As an Avenger, he or Steve were quick to tell her when she needed a break. She often never argued with them. She seemed to trust them enough that they knew when she needed to step away.</p><p>But suspended? Even after everything she accomplished in the mission? After she had successfully brought Smirnov in?</p><p>He decided to go check on the baby since he saw no sign on Natasha. He hoped she and Coulson weren’t killing each other. But he didn’t feel like going to check on them. He had left the baby with the nurses not far from the med wing but he had a feeling the scientists still had her. She hadn’t suffered any wounds, she was properly fed before they had pulled him away to take care of the bullet. Now she would be tested like a rabbit.</p><p>Clint took the turn into the hallway and stopped short. Natasha stood there, her arms folded over her chest, staring intently into a window that led to the next room. The hallway was dark and quiet—no one else was around. She was dressed back in her normal fashions: jeans and a leather jacket. Her hair was pulled back in a low ponytail. Clint took another step and she alerted, fixing her eyes on him. He was expecting a bit of guilt to cloud her eyes, maybe a apologetic “how are you?”. But she just swallowed and looked back to the window. “Statistics show that nearly 800,000 children are reported missing each year. Most kids are just abducted by their parents, actually. Custody disputes can be nasty things.” Clint frowned as he stood beside her, looking into the window. The baby was curled up in a blanket, a little cap now covering her head. She looked up at the doctors around her, giggling up at one’s stethoscope. “And then there is that once chance that you’re actually kidnapped and used for the benefit of others. You never know a family, you never know what life is outside of guns and handcuffs…”</p><p>Clint looked back to her but she was completely still, watching every move of the people in the room. “She would’ve been in the same place I’d been as a child. There would’ve been no saving her.”</p><p>“But you did save her, Nat.” When she didn’t answer he nodded to the window. “How long until they’ve finished their diagnosis.”</p><p>Natasha sighed. “They hardly understand this. They could be studying what’s in her veins for months.”</p><p>“Can’t be that hard,” Clint said, moving closer to the window. “I mean they’ve figured out what Vita-Rays were and you—“ He turned back to her, “Don’t you have the same serum in you?”</p><p>Natasha swallowed, dropping her eyes to the ground. “Vita-Rays were… created and tested in the 1940’s. They were still testing for years to come. Even when…” She looked back to him and he regretted saying anything. She moved closer to the window too, pressing her hands against the sill. “And no. This isn’t the same serum as I had. It’s new and improved and… fresh. I’m old in Smirnov’s books. The serum has stopped mutating, it’s done all it was meant to do. But this baby… she’s just the beginning. She hasn’t met her full potential.”</p><p>“And Smirnov was just willing to give her away?”</p><p>Natasha shrugged a shoulder. “It was a trade. She can’t be his only creation. And the resources he would’ve gained from Navolasky could only have boosted his work. He knew what he was doing by giving her away.”</p><p>They didn’t say any more as one of the doctor’s caught sight of them in the window and nodded. Clint waved but Natasha stood straighter, folding her arms over her chest again. They watched the doctor make for the door and then he was in the hallway with them, pulling his gloves off. “Well, there’s no doubt of it. She definitely has the serum. There’s traces of the same type as we’ve seen in Agent Romanoff’s blood but far more intricate.” He looked back to the widow where ladies were clearing the room and laughing with the baby. “But she’s perfectly healthy and should be out of the wing by the morning.”</p><p>“And then what?”</p><p>“I am just awaiting orders. I hear Director Fury will be here soon. We don’t have the resources or the time to take care of a baby here. But the base in the US and some of their agents will be more than capable.”</p><p>“Yeah. Thank you, Chase,” Natasha said, pulling hair behind her ear. The doctor nodded and then slipped back in the room. Natasha turned down the hall and Clint followed. “Apparently everyone knows Fury is coming down.”</p><p>“Did you hear that?” Clint said, jabbing a thumb behind them. “They have no idea what they’re going to do with that kid.”</p><p>“They’ll figure something out.”</p><p>“They can’t just keep her at S.H.I.E.L.D. It’s not like they found a dog with some super serum. She’s human, Nat. She’s a kid who needs to live a kid’s life.”</p><p>Natasha stopped in her tracks and turned to him. “Well, maybe you should’ve told Smirnov that before he went and used her as a test subject.”</p><p>Clint stepped back, watching her carefully. The frustration on her face dissolved and she dropped her head, rubbing a hand against her forehead. “I hear you, Clint. I get it— we need to think seriously about what we’re gonna do with her. But no one was expecting a child to be the trade.” She started walking again, putting her hands in her back pockets. “And maybe we should have been prepared for it.”</p><p>Clint sighed, walking beside her. “We’ll figure something out then.” He scoffed. “Unless, of course, Fury actually does have a plan.” Natasha seemed to force a smirk but she nodded. “I’m starving. Wanna get a bite?”</p><p>Natasha hesitated for a second before nodding, vigorously. “I know where I can get us a pizza.”</p><p>___________________</p><p>Getting a pizza was actually just bribing one of the other agents. He kept some sort of stash and Clint didn’t honestly care. He was just ready to sit in the empty cafeteria and eat the warm meat covered pizza—no questions asked. Natasha seemed just as hungry and they didn’t talk for a long while as they consumed the pizza.</p><p>When she finally looked up, she nodding to his wounded shoulder. “How’s your arm?”</p><p>He looked at his shoulder as much as he could before cocking his head. “Well, I’m on pain killers so it’s great.” He chuckled, biting into another slice. “Ask me in a few days. How about you? I heard there was a concussion?”</p><p>Natasha put a hand to the back of her head. “Yeah. But I’m okay.” She stared at him for a second before taking in a deep breath. “Gah... this is on me, Clint. I’m sorry about everything. About running off and then you getting shot…” She kept her eyes on the pizza box now. Clint didn’t speak, he didn’t move. “Coulson was right to bring you in. I know you didn’t appreciate it. I know you had vacation with your family. I hate they pulled you from that. But,” She looked up at him, “I would have killed Smirnov tonight if you hadn’t been there.”</p><p>“I don’t think you would have,” he said, leaning back in his chair.</p><p>She smirked. “You have too much faith in me, Clint.”</p><p>Clint smiled. “Well, I will continue to have that faith. It’s never once failed me.” Natasha stared at him for a moment before he smirked and she frowned. “But that was a pretty good apology. I liked it.”</p><p>She rolled her eyes and reached for another piece of pizza. “Well, that’s probably the first and last you’ll have for a good many months.”</p><p>Clint chuckled but he grabbed her hand before she could continue eating. “But honestly, Nat? You should get out of here. They don’t need you anymore and Smirnov will be taken care of.”</p><p>“Clint, there’s still so much to do—”</p><p>“But you shouldn’t have to do it,” Clint said, adamantly. If she decided to leave before Fury suspended her, she’d be better off. She wouldn’t have to work solo and instead come home with him and have some peace before going back. They could bypass all the shame and the anger. “You should come home.”</p><p>Natasha stared at him for a long moment. She blinked and her eyes flicked away from his. “I don’t exactly have a home right now, Clint.”</p><p>“You always have one with us, Nat.” Natasha swallowed but he could tell his words didn’t give her any comfort. Clint let her go and settled back in his chair. When he looked back at her she was just staring at the floors. “You knew him best, Nat… where do you think he went?”</p><p>Natasha didn’t speak for a long moment. Her eyes flicked from his to the pizza. She chewed on her lip. “I… I don’t know.”</p><p>Clint was ready to ask another question but someone rapped on the door behind him. They both straighten and looked to the door where Hendricks stood. “Director Fury’s here.”</p><p>Clint looked back to Natasha. She was taking in a steadying breath.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This girl thrives on ideas, comments, kudos and love. Send them!! Hope you come back around for more chapters!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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